Chapter 1

I always lived a normal life. I had friends as a little girl, and big birthday parties with all the classmates from my school. My family was even on the high financial level, and I, as an only child, usually got everything that I wanted. But that all changed the summer of 1899, when I turned sixteen.

"Victoria?" my grandfather, Charles Christopher Thatcher III, called lightly one morning. He's lived with my family since I was three. "Would you run out and get me a copy of The World, please?" He gave me some money. I counted it quickly.

"Grandfather, you gave me too much." I looked up at him, and found him smiling.

"Well, what would a young girl such as yourself like to get with the extra?" he asked, and I smiled back.

"I think, today, an apple," I answered. Every morning, he has me get the paper for him, and every now and then he gives me extra money for myself. Today was no exception. He smiled and nodded to me.

I tightened the shoelaces of my smart, new black boots, and headed out the front door, the money clenched tightly in my hand.

Summer in New York is really something to see. I smiled as a warm wind rushed by me, feeling the sense of enlightenment. I walked quickly down the street around some corners and more streets, and searched for one of the newsies. The newsies are a bunch of orphaned or runaway or just plain poor boys who sell newspapers for a living. I heard shouting ahead, and rushed forward. Two boys holding newspapers were standing on the corner, holding large stacks of papers and shouting for the people passing to buy just one of their "papes." I walked up to the one nearest me.

"What pape do you want?" he asked, turning to me. If a newsie wasn't selling the pape that you wanted, he could usually direct you to a friend of his who was. For a moment, we eyed each other. He had clear, beautiful eyes. He didn't look familiar to me.

"The World, please," I answered.

His face twisted into a smile. "Ah, sorry, Miss! We ain't sellin' The World anymore."

"You're not?" I asked, confused. His friend turned towards us, and he wore a grin just like the first.

"Nope. They's prices, they's too high," he answered.

I thought for a moment. "Well, can you tell me where I can find some newsies who are selling The World? My grandfather is waiting, and—"

"None of us newsies is selling The World, Miss," the second one said. He was still smiling. I didn't smile back. "Hey, you sure look purty in that purple dress o' yours, Angelface." He held out a hand and touched the shoulder of my dress.

"Cut it out, Snap," the first one said, and knocked his hand away. He was looking at me in a way no guy has ever looked at me before. I turned away.

"Aw, look, Mush, she just don't like us an' our's kind," Snap said, tauntingly.

At that moment, however, a loud shuffle broke the conversation. The three of us turned and saw two boys about to have a fist fight. They were shouting. The ladies in the street turned away, hiding into their beaus' jackets.

"C'mon, Mush!" Snap yelled, dropping his papers and taking off for the fight scene. He began to pull the two apart. Mush looked at me a moment longer, then turned, and, dropping his papers too, ran to assist him.

I stayed where I was standing. A couple of street urchins ran over, and began to pick up the papers. "No!" I cried out, and scattered them. I picked up Mush's papers and stood guard over Snap's.

A minute later, a policeman showed up, and everyone dispersed. I didn't get to see where Mush and Snap had run off to, but just then a shadow fell over me. I looked up, into the most angry glare I've ever received.

"What d'you think you're doin'?" the boy growled, and gestured to the papers. "Thought you'd steal these while the boys were off, guarding what's ours?"

"No," I whispered, my heart pounding. "I was holding them for Mush…"

"Please!" He snorted. "You expect me to believe that? Say—" He peered closer to my face. "How'd you know his name? You spyin' on us, waitin' to just steal everything away?"

"No!" I said, backing away from him. He crept closer. I fell to the ground, and the papers scattered everywhere, and so did my fistful of change. The boy bent to the ground and began collecting the money.

"Hey! What's going on?" a voice asked.

"Help me!" I said, beginning to cry. "I wanted to return these papers, but now I've lost all my money…" I looked up and saw Mush outlined there.

"Snitch, give her back her money," he said to the boy.

"You know her?" he answered, sounding confused.

"Give it back." Mush sounded serious.

The boy threw the money at me, and stood back, scowling. Snap was back, too, and picking up his papers. Mush helped me collect the money, and then I helped him with his papers. "Thanks," he told me, smiling as he helped me from the ground.

"Thank you," I whispered back, and pressed all the coins into his hand. He looked deep into my eyes, and I stared back. Then, I turned and ran quickly for home. But I could still feel his eyes on my back. When I got to my house, I turned and looked to the street corner. He stood there, and tipped his hat, then turned and walked back, to his post, I assumed. I smiled to myself. I'd never had anyone escort me to my door—even it was just with his eyes.